Priceless prize
by shadows-of-flame
Summary: A face off between Kleiver and Daxter cannot go well. But the question is, is it worse for the Spargus citizens, the competitors, or the prize...? One shot.


Priceless prize  
By shadows/of/flame

Dedicated to Weiila, for her fic challenge. You can find the criteria at my El Jay. Enjoy!

* * *

The dinner table at Spargus was not a very calm one at best. But tonight, it was a lot worse than usual.  
How can it get any worse, you ask? 

You'll see, and so did Jak as soon as his foot's shadow cast itself over the very threshold of the dining hall.  
The first problem he noticed was the utter shocked silence, as though Ashelin and Krew had just danced in in tutus and announced they were engaged.  
Then there was Damas, standing at the head of the table as he usually did, grinning like a loon, butter knife in hand.

Now, Damas grinning, especially like a loon, and a silence so thick a knife would break if you tried to cut it was not a usual occurence, so Jak focused his attention on the small ottsel and what appeared to be Kleiver creating the disturbance.

Or rather, the utter silence that you could hear a mile away.

"Can someone explain what's going on here?" Jak groaned, not needing more issues in his already stressed life.  
Torn was already giving him enough emotional stress. After a night out of partying, drinking and smoking, the commander had come back to the Underground hideout to find Jak spooning with Jinx, and the poor renegade didn't need anymore stress as well as finding a way to apologise to the angry commander.

"Ssssh!" everyone hissed, the first sound in the otherwise silent room, and everyone turned back to Kleiver and Daxter.  
Jak clambered over the seats to see if he could see anything, and listened as Kleiver started to speak.

"You think you can take me on in a race, ey ratboy?" Kleiver hissed, sending flecks of spit right into Daxter's face.  
"Yeah, tonnes of fun, I think I could beat you anyday!"

Kleiver's eyes narrowed more if possible, and if looks could kill, Daxter would be no more than a pile of ash on the table.

"Bring it on, ratface. I challenge you to a competition. Damas can choose what we do." he leered.  
"Watch it beach ball! Dream all you like, but I'm gonna win!"

Jak chuckled as some of the old insults used on Krew came out of Daxter's mouth, and he couldn't say he was surprised.

"The loser..." Damas started, and everyones attention turned to the king, "has to dye their hair pink. Or, in Daxter's case, fur."

"Excuse me, Mr Sand King? Kleiver doesn't HAVE hair to speak of."

A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd, and Damas groaned as Kleiver tried desperately to kill Daxter.

"May I tell you what the challenge is?" the king asked, raising a nonexistant eyebrow.

Everyone fell immediately silent, wondering what the pairs challenge would be.  
"...your challenge is to run the new turrent gun course. The person with the highest score wins the prize."

Kleiver started cackling, and Daxter went slightly pale. It would be a piece of cake for Kleiver, everyone knew the challenge was in the fat mans favour.

Jak couldn't imagine Daxter with pink fur very well, and hoped that when it came round to it, that he didn't laugh TOO hard at his old friend.  
...with pink fur.

"What's the prize?" the blond renegade asked, trying not to let Damas see him.  
"The prize is this fellow, donated ever-so-willingly... in fact, too willingly, by Haven City's government!"

Two guards dragged out a rather mad Torn, and Jak groaned.  
Would his day get ANY worse? Torn being auctioned as a prize? Torn being mad with him? Kleiver... getting Torn as a prize?

Jak shuddered as what Kleiver could do to the commander filled his mind.  
The thing that came to mind most was skinning and buttering him...

"I am not a prize to be won! Let go of me." Torn demanded, thrashing around for all he was worth, but Damas merely had him stuffed into the next desert transport like a rag doll, and exclaimed "To the turrent arena!"

0o0o0

The stands were filled. Popcorn (yes, popcorn) and other food was in the hands or being put in the hands of everyone assembled.  
Jak chucked his popcorn at some screaming fangirls and stood with his arms folded, hoping that the little glitch he had discovered would go through OK.

He watched with intent as Daxter and Kleiver glared at each other, and Damas stood in the middle of them, his boom boom stick raised up high like a sword.

"Today, our turrent gun course will test the strength of two competitors, our very own Kleiver, and Jak's obnoxious talking animal! The winner gets this very good prize, given ever-so-willingly... to us by the Haven City government!"

Torn glared as he was dragged to stand in front of Damas, his glare burning holes in the spectators. Jak didn't think Ashelin would appreciate Torn being sold off as a prize, even though she had authenciated it in the first place...

"Let the competition begin!" Damas exclaimed, and Kleiver took to the turrent gun first, an evil smirk pasted on his features.

Daxter went after him, trying as best he could to 'wallop' Kleiver's score, as the man so delicately put it, but didn't even come close.

"So, the winner is Kleiver I see!" Damas exclaimed as they came back down from the turrent, Daxter's head hung in defeat.

"Ahh, sorry to burst your bubble, but... no." Pecker said, settling on the kings shoulder.  
"What?" the three exclaimed.

"Kleiver's score was just under ten thousand, correct?" Pecker asked in his usual, annoying manner.

"Yes..." Damas replied, getting rather edgy.

"...you said the person with the highest score won, correct?"

"Yes..."

"Well, there was a score higher than Kleiver's by two thousand points."

Jak swore that if Kleiver's face went any redder, he could fry an egg on his face and boil water on it simultaneously.

"Whos?" Damas asked, a dangerous, edgy tone edging his voice.

"Jak's."

Jak sniggered as Daxter and Kleiver started yelling and screaming simultaneously, as the guards edged towards them with two buckets of pink hair dye...

0o0o0

The two walked in silence out of the arena, Jak's mind still filled with the image of Daxter's pink fur. He could barely control his laughter, but now that he couldn't see Daxter he had calmed down a bit.

"...I got you as a prize for working my ass off at the turrent gun...? That's not very fair." Jak muttered as him and Torn started walking through the city to the dune buggies.

"It's not like I chose to sell myself as a prize." Torn huffed, shutting his mouth.

Jak winced. "You're still mad at me spooning with Jinx?"

Torn glared. "It wasn't the spooning I minded, more that you were spooning in! My! Bed!"

"I just saved your sorry ass from being eaten by Kleiver! You could at least show some gratitude." Jak mumbled, fishing the keys to the Ram Rod out of his pocket.

"Look... I guess seems you saved my hide, I forgive you. But never again..." Torn growled, clambering into the passenger's seat.

"Now, we need to see Ashelin about some... 'issues'..."


End file.
